Dirty Sheets
by FrostyHeart03
Summary: In an AU where Jess miraculously is alive and the hunting game is slow, the Winchesters decide it’s time for their first vacation. Whilst Sam and Jess are off being a cute couple, Dean and Castiel begin to develop their own relationship. Will it go anywhere? Will anything else get in their way?
1. Chapter 1 — Airplane

**_NOTES_**

_Sooo don't ask me when this takes place, because honestly I'm not completely sure? It's before Jack but also after Mary's resurrection. I hope that helps! Remember, this is an AU and a fanfiction and that I'm completely fudging these tourist locations! Thanks for reading! _

xxx

"Hurry up, we're gonna be late!"

Sam's voice echos through the large parking garage as he stares, highly annoyed, at his older brother. The 6' mass of muscle lays slumped over his car like he's saying goodbye for the last time. Dean Winchester— the man who vanquished the darkness, who killed Hitler, and who saved the world countless of times — has his arms wrapped around his black Chevy Impala he calls Baby.

"Gimme a moment, Sammy. I've never been without her this long before." Dean frets, as he closes his eyes to absorb her cool, black hood. He takes a ragged breath as he recalls the rumble of her engine; her sweet purr. Every time he inserts the key into the ignition, he reminds himself that she is _his_. He rebuilt her from the ground up more times than he can count.

"It's only 6 days, Dean." The younger, yet taller brother retorts as he flicks a long, overgrown strand of hair from his eyes. Both brothers know that Dean's will to drive his Impala is the least of his problems. Ever since he was a little boy, Dean has been terrified of flying. He doesn't quite remember how or why, but he's always hated the thought of being thousands of miles above land while also traveling at speeds unfathomable in a car. There are so many things that could go wrong, and above all, he hates the low rumble of turbulence.

Frankly, he doesn't even recall agreeing to fly, but then again he hasn't been as sober as he used to be. His old drinking habit resurfaced to combat his agonizing boredom, so there are patches of time missing from his memory where he could've agreed in a bravely drunken state. It doesn't matter, though. Although he would've preferred taking his car, Sam and Sam's fiancée insisted.

A dark and shaggy-haired man in a teak trench coat stands next to Dean, rolling his eyes sarcastically. Despite his military-grade stiffness, this being has the best ironic humor Dean's ever seen. Castiel knows Dean well, arguably more than the Winchester knows himself. Like conjoined twins, Cass can read him like an open book (even without his mindreading abilities). Dean's limp expression and his lack of cooperation tells Castiel what the Winchester is feeling, and so he grips his shoulder— firm, but not pushy— before sighing.

"Dean, Sam is right." He says in his usual gruff tone, as Dean turns his head and raises his bushy brows. To retaliate against Dean's fine-lined mouth and unamused visage, Cass also adds: "Don't worry about the flight, I will be next to you the whole time."

"Fine, fine." The older Winchester huffs a complacent sigh before he stands up straight once more. Castiel nods curtly before turning to Sam, who's stifling a laugh. Dean's phobia has always seemed to amuse him, especially because this is his only true fear. Dean's brows crease and he grumbles a little, thrusting Castiel's hand off with a roll of his shoulder. In that moment, a pretty blonde appears from behind Sam with a gentle smile on her face. She wraps her arms lovingly around his waist before reaching up to kiss his shoulder (he was too tall for her to reach his cheek from this angle). Sam chuckles softly and he turns to see Jess, his college sweetheart.

Previously, Jess had died in a ceiling fire caused by Azazel, a demon obsessed with Sam Winchester. She had been lost for almost twenty years. However, when Amara (also known as the Darkness) brought Mary Winchester back from the dead, she brought Jess back too. It was years later that Sam and Jess reunited, continued to date, and eventually, professed their love. Jessica's beautiful diamond engagement ring sparkles dazzlingly on her ring finger as it curls around Sam's hip.

"I dropped our bags off. Is he _still_ obsessing over that car?" The blonde giggles a little as Dean flushes with embarrassment. She had left to drop off their suitcases thirty minutes ago.

"No, we're good." Dean grumbles softly as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, only to look back longingly at the sleek impala. He steals his eyes away before Sam can make another joke about it and he looks over at Castiel. Instinctively, deep blue eyes turn to meet his. "Was flying like being on a plane?"

"No." Castiel says simply, tipping his head a little as he matched his step with Dean's. However, his voice softens when he realized Dean's inner fears. Eyes are a doorway to the soul, afterall. "But I am sure it's the same feeling. I mean—" he shakes his head as he gets himself to the point. "— I will be there to help you."

Dean smiles a little and looks over at Sam and his fiancée. Their arms are entangled, their fingers: entwined like branches of a tree. He couldn't see their faces, but he can tell they're lit up in a grin. They're happy, Dean knows this. He sighs lightly as they pass through automatic doors and Castiel flinches in surprise. He looks side to side suspiciously as the glass doors retreat into themselves. His contorted face causes Dean to snort with amusement so strong it's hard to fight it. Give him an army of angels, a leviathan, or even a blade and the clipped angel handles fine. However, Castiel was never one for technology or modernized slang.

Agitated and a little flustered in embarrassment, Castiel shoots a deadpanned glance at Dean, his eyes glassy with sass. He exhales slowly before walking ahead a little to be petty. The ordeal curves the Winchester's lip up into a lopsided smirk before he shuffled faster to close the distance. Laughter forces itself from his lungs and he slaps a hand on his best friend's shoulder. Only for a moment does Castiel share his smile, but they had entered the building, and the crowd drowns out any hit of laughter.

"Where's security?" Sam turns to Jess a few feet ahead of the duo. The blonde merely points to a colorful sigh as her mouth moves inaudibly. Dean pretends like he's listening, but in real honestly, he's just following his baby brother. Castiel, however, walks stiffly as he tips his chin up with curiosity. Dean doesn't notice how his brows twitch softly as he's thinking, nor does his eyes linger over his chapped lips. He denied it.

After a few more minutes of walking, the small group reaches security. Castiel, unfamiliar with this process, looks to Dean for assistance, but Dean isn't paying much attention. His fingers drum silently on his thighs as he tries to deny the inevitable. Maybe if he set off the alarm they wouldn't have to go? No, that wouldn't be fair to Sam and Jess.

Next to him, Castiel opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he closes it as they're approached by an officer. Somehow through the commotion, Jess and Sam are already making their way to the other side.

"Okay, so remove your belt, shoes, and electronic devices and put them in the bin." She says professionally, stepping aside to motion toward little grey bins on conveyor belts. Behind her, Sam had been pulled aside by another TSA officer and Jess waits patiently nearby. At Dean's side, Castiel tips his head to the side like a curious dog.

"Why is this required?" He asks in a low and rough tone as he hesitantly bends down to untie his shoes. By now, the female officer had moved on and Dean had to answer the question.

"I dunno." Dean grins a little as he does the same. He peels off his grey sneakers and places them in the bin as Castiel copies him with his black dress shoes. The older Winchester can feel the angel's eyes processing him as he carefully unbuckles his belt and slips it off to lay alongside his shoes. Hastily copying his moves, Castiel does the same. To the older brother's surprise, the angel's fingers are agile and quick on the smooth metal. Dean shrugs off his army green jacket and nods at Castiel. "I think the jacket has to come off too."

Although he puzzles this, Castiel complies and shifts off not just his teak overcoat, but his black suit coat. The only time Dean has ever seen him without the two extra layers was when he was processed by the devil, so this is considered a rare sight. Dean allows his eyes to scan over the uncovered curves of his back, biceps, and... he needs to focus.

Snapping his head back to attention, Dean steps forward through the metal detector and he passes without a beep. Castiel, on the other hand, hesitates at the gateway. Silently, he passes through only to be greeted by a loud shrieking sound, _'Oh god, Cass'_ Dean grunts to himself as he visibly pinches his temple. _'he has his damn angel blade, doesn't he?'_

The angel stops short and his eyes dart instinctively to Dean, who shakes his head in disbelief. A few officers around them whisper inaudibly and hurriedly as one brave and stern-looking man approaches. He puffs his chest and looks down upon the awkward angel: "Sir?"

The blue-eyed rebel looks up with little fear in his eyes despite new this experience is. Castiel has always underestimated humans. Instead of afraid, the angel looks unphased.

"I don't understand. Why did the machine go off once I stepped under it?" He says in his baritone voice as Dean steps under the machine. It goes off, but he motions to his metallic necklace. The samulet is comprised of gold, afterall. (Yes, he kept the one Chuck found).

"Sir, I'm gonna have to pat you down. I'll use the back of my hands to pat down any sensitive areas." The officer denied his question with a routine statement. Dean was let off easy and he went to collect his stuff. "Is that OK?"

"No, because I have nothing to hide." Castiel's voice is lowered to a whisper, but it's so distinct to Dean that he can pick it out from the crowd easily. Glancing over his knee as he bends over to tie his shoes, he spots Castiel reach out and lightly tap the man's forehead. The officer then doubles back a little in confusion before he blinks at the angel with no memory of the previous few seconds.

Castiel uses this technique a lot, and it's come in handy more times than not.

Once the muscular man comes back to terms with his surroundings, he motions for Castiel to move on forward. Perplexed, Jess whispered something to Sam. Judging by her face, it must have had to do with Castiel's inhuman ability. Carefully, he slipped on his green jacket as the angel slipped on his shoes.

"Smooth." Dean commented as he stood up straight. Castiel has misjudged the distance between them, and so they stand merely inches apart. This is something he frequently does, disregarding personal space, so Dean doesn't seem to mind it anymore. Instead of backing away, however, he reaches up and straightens the angel's blue tie. Behind them, he can hear Sam chuckle and mention _Destiel_.

Ever since the brothers discovered the books and the musical of their lives, Sam has been the biggest supporter of _Casdean_ or _Destiel_: Castiel's and Dean's own name combined, apparently. 'Shipping' is what it's referred as, and Dean is quite certain his baby brother is trying to get his fiancée involved too.

Dean tries his hardest to let the comments slip past him, but it's hard to ignore someone who's trying to get you into a relationship with your best friend.

"Dean, are you alright?" Castiel's voice cuts in as Dean realizes he spaced out staring at the wall. With a quick shake of his head, Dean composes himself and smiles softly.

"Yeah, fine." Like usual, he lies, and like usual, Castiel knows. The angel narrows his sea blue eyes slightly in disbelief but he makes no move to rebut him. Dean stares back, his forest eyes threatening the angel to argue. Moments pass, and the only reason their eye contact breaks is because a tall man nudges past Castiel and knocks him forward an inch. The momentum causes their bodies to collide in slow motion, right shoulder to right shoulder. Their arms brush within moments that last years, and it sends a strange tingle through Dean's body: something similar to anticipation. Only a lifetime later do their fingertips collide and depart like a fleeting summer fling. In the next moment, Cass is walking towards Sam and Jess.

Dean blinks quickly before he turns around and forgets the whole experience. At least, that's what he wants to do.

Adjacent to Cass is Jess and Sam, whose arms are linked like a chivalrous 60's couple. As the older brother approaches, Sam cocks an eyebrow at Dean, who the retaliates with an eye roll. This gesture isn't unfamiliar between the two. Dean earns the "really?" gaze from Sam if he flirts with a waitress or girl on the middle of a case or he unintentionally flirts with Castiel. With a short exhale, Dean shakes his head. Of course, Sam must be messing with him. He's not into his guardian angel like that, how could he be?

"So where's the gate or whatever?" Dean changes the subject before Sam could even think about bringing it up. Jess merely shrugs and turns to Sam.

"Don't ask me, he has our papers." She replies softly and her silky curls bounce while she turns her smiling face to Sam. The young Winchester turns simultaneously and grins. God, this is the happiest Dean has ever seen Sam. The last time he's seen Sam smile genuinely was when he was 15 and Dean took him to see an R-rated movie.

"13." He replies, but his eyes don't leave Jessica's: It's like they're tethered together. Dean's gaze, not wanting to watch them fuck with their eyes, fall on Castiel. He's throwing his trench coat back on, but he senses Dean's attention and he looks up again.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Castiel glances over at Sam momentarily but his gaze quickly focuses back on Dean. With a deep breath, Dean nods.

"Yeah, let's go love birds." He says playfully as the engaged couple finally breaks eye contact. They nod in agreement, link hands, and continue on their merry way. Some part of Dean wishes he could settle down and have a domestic life like his brother. A wife and a litter of rug rats, snow days and vacations... However, he could never go through with it knowing monsters and things are lurking in the night. This job has given him so much PTSD, he could never live without the paranoia, fear, and pressure to protect everyone. He's tried it before with Lisa, and he knows how well that ended.

Perhaps with another hunter he could form a relationship, but that's highly unlikely.

After a few minutes of walking, the group reaches a set of seats under the sign in bold: 13. They sit in a line near the window and Dean's anxiety spikes. He can feel his head pounding and his knuckles cracking under the weight of his grip on the edge of his seat. He closes his eyes but the pounding doesn't go away in the slightest. Dean tries to think of what Sam tells him when he gets like this: _breath, it's okay._ "Dean?" A deep voice breaks the silence, but he can't locate the source. He's spiraling, and he thinks he might throw up. "Dean." The voice repeats, but with urgency. Something hard lands on Dean's shoulder, but he instinctively shrugs it off. His stomach churns in anticipation. "Dean!"

Finally, his eyes snap open and he visualizes he source of the voice. Two people are by his side— Sam and Castiel. Sam stands awkwardly and helplessly bent over to his crouching height (which is still almost as tall as Cass) while the angel rubs Dean's back in slow, rhythmic motions. To prevent himself from vomiting, Dean lurches forward and buries his face into Castiel's shoulder. Quite familiar with this gesture, his arms fold protectively over Dean's waist. Without context, pedestrians would think they are a couple and scold them for PDA.

"Now boarding all..." the loudspeaker calls, but Dean isn't listening. The world is muffled by Castiel's musk and his warmth. Pride diminishes when he's faced with his true fear, and Dean can't bring himself to care. However, before he knows it, Castiel is shifting and Dean won't let go. Too soon does Castiel coax him out of his safe haven and tell him it's time to board. Too late does Dean nod and agree, even if he wants to stay in his shoulder for the rest of time. Anything to avoid that plane. But even heaven has to end at some point.

Dean looks up and somehow, Castiel had guided him into a line of people. Sam and Jess look down on him with frowns of worry. Everyone towers over him and it's almost overwhelming. However, the sight of Sam is enough to ignite determination back into Dean; he must be strong for his baby brother.

He has to, _right Dad?_

Dean clambers to his full height, leaning heavily on his best friend so he doesn't pass out. He presses his mouth into a thin, determined line and Sam raises his brows in surprise. Castiel shifts a little because he doesn't know how to respond and Dean turns slightly to pat his shoulder, _stand down_. Castiel understands immediately and nods, allowing the hunter to adjust himself on his own to feet. Still worried however, he hovers at Dean's side anyway in case he does fall under another dizzy spell and needs the support.

If he can conquer the apocalypse, he can conquer his anxiety.

He barely heard the lady as she asked for his ticket, but he thrust his arm out anyway and placed it on the scanner. When it beeped with approval, Dean sighed with relief and continued: Castiel by his side, and his brother connected to Jess to his front.

From his right, Castiel looks over and there is a hint of worry in his deep blue eyes. He has never witnessed Dean's reaction to flight before.

"Dean, is this a normal human reaction to flying?" The angel leans in and asks worriedly. Dean knows Cass is still learning human behavior, and it seems to scare him knowing there is barely anything he can do to help his friend.

"Yeah, don't worry." Dean looks over and fakes a lopsided grin that doesn't convince Castiel in the slightest, but it's the only response Dean knows. Slowly, the group inches their way toward the aircraft's plug door. With every inch, Dean's heartbeat increases more and more. Sensing this, Cass wraps an arm around Dean's waist to steady him. Throughout the years, the angel has figured out how to calm Dean down: hugs. Although Dean denies it every time, it works despite his protests.

Aware that they look like a couple, Dean turns to Castiel and slaps his back playfully. He doesn't want his best friend to stop comforting him, but rather send him the right message.

Ahead of them, Sam and Jess step onto the plane in a swift, easy motion that seems impossible for Dean to accomplish. Sam juts out his hand for the Pilot to shake, and his brother realizes how civilian-like Sam is. Guilt begins to crawl into his stomach and set itself like a stone. The only reason why he isn't is because Dean didn't want to hunt alone.

"You coming?" Sam's voice cut into his dark thoughts and snapped attention to his face. Sam wore an awkward, lopsided grin and his hair hung lazily in his face, but all he sees is blame. Blame that he was too selfish to let Sam have a normal life; for him to not feel the burden Dean feels every day; to be happy.

"Yeah." Dean responds as he eyes the distance between the gangway and the inside of the plane. He makes the leap and when he finds he made it, smiles in satisfication. Castiel, unphased by the gap, steps over the inch of void and onto the plane beside him. Castiel is basically fearless and Dean admires that about him.

Slowly, the group wades through a crowd of people to find their seats toward the center of the plane. Luckily, the small jet airline seats four per row— two on the right and two on the left. The airport in Terrel, a town near Lawrence, is considerably small, so the airplane size isn't as large as the ones in Dallas or other large cities. Dean and Castiel clamber into two seats while Sam and Jess climb into the two seats across from them. The angel gives the engaged couple a small wave before he turns to Dean, who's struggling with his seatbelt. His shaky fingers fumble with the simple task, and his breathing becomes labored with stress. Castiel, who has greatly improved his people skills, touches Dean's hand and looks him in the eye. His voice is low and soothing: "Allow me."

Too afraid to protest, Dean grumbles a "Fine" and rolls his eyes. Cass leans over and like a father taking care of his child, he fastens Dean's belt securely and looks up with a smile. Dean merely gave the helpful angel an annoyed glare reading: "really? Was that really necessary?" Castiel only responds with a shrug and he grins as he clasps his own buckle.

"Is my pain funny to you?" Dean elbows Cass gently as he secured himself. Castiel playfully cocks his head like a dog who heard an interesting noise and for once, he grins. His mouth creases where his cheeks are, and his eyes crinkle at their seams. His blue eyes look nice with a shade of amusement and Dean soon finds it contagious.

"Possibly." Castiel replies as his grin widens. "However, I don't understand how a mental trigger could be considered a physical stimulus, as you put it."

There's that innocent, yet ironic comment Dean was waiting for. Suddenly, Dean realizes he isn't shaking anymore nor does his stomach churn. Distractions do help, it seems. However, with the realization comes the nausea and the shaking alike. That's the thing with anxiety: it only goes away when it's out of mind.

"Dean?" Castiel attracts the young hunter's attention again, pointing at the screen in front of them. "Is there any particular movie I should watch to understand more of your culture references?"

Dean shrugs slightly but his face shifts into a smile again. For some reason, he feels validated knowing his best friend wants to understand him better. "Try Ghostbusters."

With that, Castiel nods and rummages through Dean's bag. Since he's an angel, Cass felt like he didn't need to pack anything. However, since the young hunter knows the angel will be staying with him (Sam and Jess will be in a separate room for obvious reasons) he packed extra things. The angel with clipped wings takes out the earbuds and he frowns at the television in front of him. Dean stifles a chuckle.

"Put it in here." Dean taps the headphone jack as the angel's face lights up in realization.

Suddenly, a voice boomed over the loudspeakers and Dean flinched back into his seat. In his rush of fear, he grasps Castiel's arm and holds on for dear life. Sympathetically, Cass stands still as the other man held onto him. Through his own experience as a human, he knows these creatures need validation and support: two things he's willing to provide.

"Dean, don't worry. The voice is only warning us about people in yellow vests." The angel assures the anxious hunter as he peers curiously at the people in life jackets. Dean would chuckle at his ignorance but currently his mind is on other things. Slowly, Dean untangles his arms from Castiel and he sits upright.

This is going to be a long ride.

The plane lurches forward an inch or two, and Dean, not expecting this, squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself against his seat. This is it, this is how he dies. A few seats away, Sam chuckles softly. A warm hand places itself onto his, and Dean opens one eye to watch as a soulless angel show compassion. Castiel furrows his eyes with sympathy and strangely, a vague softness. Upon Dean's reaction, however, Castiel shifts his hand away and looks down. Dean didn't realize it, but his face contorted with confusion instead of relief. The Winchester opens his mouth to invite the fleeting hand back to its proper place, but he closes his mouth upon second thought.

Outside the window, the landing strip stretches into the horizon and the plane twists until it's out of view. The lake whispers outward under the jet engines and a shallow rumble starts up and shakes the plane. Dean holds onto the seat rests until his knuckles turn white, but he can't look away from the window. Trees and blades of grass alike bend and make way for the giant hunk of metal responsible for carrying some 120 people. The dance of nature parting for man is mesmerizing.

"Dean, would you like some chewing gum?" Castiel's voice asks from behind him. Dean turns around to find his angel holding out a singular cube of mint gum in his palm. With a small smile, he continues: "Sam told me that chewing gum helps the descent and ascent in a plane."

Graciously, Dean accepts the offering and palms the gum. The fingers on his other hand drum dully on the arm rest as the hunter figures out how to word his feelings. For a fleeting second, he completely forgets he's on an aircraft. "Cass?"

"Yes Dean?" He turns as he pops an earbud into his ear. Suddenly, the hunter's mouth is dry and he can't get the words out.

Dean fumbles a little and he licks his lips in order to recover. "Uh.. just, the look I gave you, I didn't mean—"

"Oh, Dean, I get it—"

"— it, I mean—"

"— you meant well—"

"Yeah."

"Yes..."

The two talk and stumble their sentences over one another until they run into an awkward pause in the conversation. The plane buzzes around them as they prepared to take off, and a baby is crying loudly. Dean, suddenly conscious to his situation, grips the nearest object— Castiel's thigh— and holds on for dear life. The angel gasps a little in surprise, but he goes with it. Sam, on the other hand, is smirking and whispering to Jess. It's obvious he's talking about sexual innuendos by the way he's pointing at the duo and gesticulating wildly. Dean can't bring himself to care.

The engine growls loudly as it prepares the commercial plane to accelerate and ascend into the sky. Dean isn't just shaking from the vibration of the engine.

Suddenly, the aircraft plunges forward and it takes off down the runway. The fearless hunter squeezes his eyes closed and pressed his mouth into a thin line to contain a yell. His fingers dig in deep into Cass' thigh, but the angel has a high pain tolerence. He's too focused on the miniture television in front of him as he tries to figure it out.

Dean's vision begins to blur and he realizes he stopped breathing. He held his breath even as his lungs screamed for air and his vision narrowed into a thin tunnel of light. He didn't breathe because he felt like breathing could be enough to send the plane spiraling down to Earth.

Because of this, he blacked out.

xxx

When Dean awoke again, the rumble of the plane died down to a soft white noise. His head spins lightly as his equilibrium remembers how to sustain itself. Dean realizes there's no turning back, and he reaches outward for a doggy bag. He empties his stomach into in with a few convulsions.

Once he's finished, Dean rests his head on the back of the chair and pants softly. Closing his eyes, he tries to imagine himself safely on the ground. Unfortunately, it doesn't help. As he's giving up, however, a firm hand plants itself onto Dean's middle back and it moves in slow, soothing circles. Dean turns his head to find Castiel trying his best to comfort him whilst also staring into the movie. It seems Castiel finally figured out the TV and he is midway through Ghostbusters.

Across the way, Sam had fallen asleep on Jessica's shoulder. Dean can't help a smile as he remembers the times where he was that shoulder. Jess seems indulged in some romantic comedy.

Sighing, Dean ponders whether sitting up could help or not. In the end, however, he stays where he is. Whether it was Castiel's hand or his protesting head that stopped him is irrelevant.

"Dean, it's okay. I'm here." Castiel's rough voice rose above the soft rumble of the plane. Dean must be hyperventilating again. Something soft and unfamiliar wraps itself around Dean's shoulders, and he looks around to see nothing.

It took Dean forever to figure it out, but Castiel's broken wing drapes itself over Dean's shoulder like a mother bird protecting her chick. With a small smile on his face, Dean shifts his head to look at his angel. He gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and he still thinks he owes something to Dean.

xxx

The older Winchester doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up, his head rests against Castiel's shoulder. In front of him, the television is blank, but the angel is still sitting as straight as a soldier. Dean leaps up in surprise, but the angel makes no further movement. Dean turns to look outside and pretends it didn't happen.

The clouds are white a fluffy in the tropopause, and bad weather seems miles behind them. The flight path is smooth enough for Dean to watch clouds float by like careless butterflies. For once, Dean realizes how beautiful it is up here.

But the peace doesn't last forever.

"Mommy, are we gonna land in the water?" A squeaky voice asks loudly from a row behind the group.

Dean looks at Castiel for an answer but then he realizes he doesn't have one. The chaos was just beginning.

"We're going to begin our initial descent." The loudspeaker bellowed and fueled the kids' protests.

"Daddy, is the wing gonna fall off?"

"Are we gonna die?"

"I think we blew an engine! Daddy, that was a loud sound!"

Dean's head begins to spin again and he braces himself against the seat. He groans a little in annoyance as the airplane lurches downward slightly and sends his stomach to his chest. Closing his eyes again, he tells himself they're not going to crash. Everything is going to be okay. But as he looks outside, he realizes the buildings are getting closer and closer.

It took about 30 minutes of panicking plus one doggybag for the plane to land and for Dean to quit hyperventilating. When the wheels had touched the ground, Dean yelled out: "Oh thank the lord."

"My father had nothing to do with our safe arrival." Castiel had replied.

Soon enough, the small group was inching their way off the plane. The older Winchester hesitates at the gap again. Hundreds of feet below them is asphalt— glorious asphalt. It takes no effort for him to step over the crack without a care in the world.

As Dean escapes his worst fear, a rush of humidity hits him like a wave. As a smile draws on his lips and he relaxes, his family comes to stand beside him. He won't have to worry about another plane for 6 whole days. That's vacation enough for him.

xxx


	2. Chapter 2 -- His Closet

**Notes: **

_Hey there, I'm surprised you're still here! Enjoy some fluff! Oh also, I talk a bit about Dean's sexuality and how he thinks that being gay makes him "less of a man." Please note that I personally do not think this, but Dean and his father does. :)_

xxx

Outside the airport in the rental car garage, Dean stares sadly at a 2019 Chevy Impala. Her sleek silver trim and black coat compare nothing to his baby, but it's enough to give him nostalgia. Even if she is roughly 50 years younger, she reminds him of home.

His brother, on the other hand, was eyeing a different car. Next to them, a minivan is parked invitingly with its trunk open. It is by far the only attractive car that could fit their luggage. She's a Honda, judging by its design and classic logo. Dean had always been quick to characterize cars, and it's the one quality he's proud of. Well, besides hunting and sex, at least.

As a child, Dean was always fond of the idea of becoming a mechanic. He often enjoyed reading car magazines and watching _how its made_ on the motel television. His favorite episode was the one where it went through the making of a car, of course. It was very educating, and it helped knowing what went into the making of a car when John taught him to drive and to fix his baby.

Castiel noticed the long, sorrowful gaze at the 2019 Chevy and his head tilted like a dog. The angel's puppy gaze caught Dean's attention immediately, and automatically he knew what his best friend was thinking. "I'm fine."

_As soon as Dean cleared the plane, he had sprinted to the bathroom and vomited for at least five whole minutes. Sam and Jess had gone off to obtain all of their luggage and Cass was sent in after him. "Dean?" He had asked as his feet carried him across the tile floor. The hunter was too weak to reply, but somehow Cass knew this. He used his telekinetic abilities to unlock the correct stall door so he could step inside. Dean, still hunched over, dry vomited while his body shook uncontrollably. He lurched a few times, even if his stomach was completely empty. Before the young hunter knew it, however, he was wrapped in something soft and strong. Castiel was not only holding him tightly from behind, but his invisible and broken wings gathered Dean protectively. Oddly, Castiel's hugging had always calmed him down and that moment was no exception. __Wordlessly, Castiel had sat there with him, unphased by the hunter's gagging and spitting. Dean's body expanded and retracted with deep breaths as he calmed himself down and the room quit spinning in time. "Cass?" He had croaked weakly as he came to his senses and noticed his best friend. "I am right here." the being's baritone voice was muffled by Dean's matted shirt, and the angel didn't seem to mind. As long as Dean was safe, Castiel didn't mind at all._

The oldest hunter walked the length of the car, showing no indication of the incident on his sleeve. His clothing was smoothened down, and he had made sure his face was scrubbed clean of any bodily fluids. However, Sam stops his brother from getting into the driver's seat.

"Dude, you vomited like, what, 3 times today? You're in no condition to drive." Sammy crosses his arms and used his height to his advantage. Dean, who is always the one to drive, merely squints his eyes in disbelief. _He_ was supposed to be the one taking care of Sammy, not the other way around. He was always the stronger, colder brother of the two, and he wants it to stay that way. No matter how old they get, Sam will always be his little brother and Dean will never break the vow he took so many years ago.

"Like hell." Dean shakes his head with a small chuckle, like the mere idea that Sam is looking out for him is amusing. Sam rolls his eyes sarcastically as his hardheaded brother attempts to climb into the driver's seat once more. With his equilibrium still off, his foot misses the gap and he clumsily wobbles to regain his balance. With his face pink in embarrassment, he looks up at Sam and scoffs. "I'm _fine."_

"I'm driving." Sam concludes the conversation with these two simple words and he crouches into the driver's space. Sam was so tall, his head almost reaches the ceiling. It was almost amusing to watch the sasquatch adjust the seat so he could sit comfortably. Childishly, Dean rolls his eyes and prepares to call 'shotgun' when he realizes Jess has already settled herself down into the front seat next to his brother. Its probably for the best, Jess claiming the front seat: Sam gets to be next to his fiancee. At least, this is what Dean tries to tell himself as he adjusts to the fact that he's in the back for the first time.

"Sam is right, you are in no condition to drive." Castiel's low voice chimes in from behind the nauseated hunter. Whipping around and narrowing his eyes at his guardian angel, Dean expells air from his lungs in a gesture silently saying 'you're not helping.' Castiel rolls his eyes, and upon the flick of his pupils, Dean notices something off about his best friend. He shifts uncomfortably and irritatedly in his overcoats, his baby soft skin matte with sweat. The family has never been in any sort of tropical location before, which is why Dean automatically knows why Cass is so uncomfortable.

"Cass, your vessel's hot." Dean states factually, but as the words escape his lips, he realizes the connotations of what he just said. Sam's Loreal-worthy head of hair whips around and his eyebrows hike up into his hairline in disbelief. Inside the car, Jessica's snort of amusement breaks the silence. Dean's face immediately shifts to a redder hue due to his embarrassment and his lack of communication skills. "I mean— you're sweating— uh not hot like— your body temp— y-your body is overly warm."

Dean's stammering didn't make much of his case, but luckily for him, Castiel's ignorance proved to be a worthy asset. Because of his lack of slang knowledge, he didn't read into the unintentional flirting aspect of his words and instead nods thankfully.

"Thank you for the insight, Dean." The disabled angel smiles softly at his friend before he shrugs off his overcoat and slips out of his undercoat. Dean couldn't help but take in the new image of his friend, and even if he even wanted to look away, he couldn't. Castiel's button-up was plastered to his sides with sweat and it brought out the curves of a well-built man. Slowly, the angel rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and exposed more skin than Dean has ever seen of his friend (well, excluding that one time he was stabbed by that reaper but Dean was too distraught with grief to notice his abdominal muscles). Slowly, Dean found it in himself to swallow the drool that began to pool in his mouth and he realizes that more than a moment had passed. To his left, Sam's face had morphed into a 'Dean, your gay is showing' like of look, and the older brother fights the urge to yell out that he likes vagina, not dick. It wasn't gay to find your friend mildly attractive.

Sam shrugs and settles back into the driver's seat, muttering a "told you" to his fiancee. Dean chooses to ignore the comment and instead turns back to his best friend, who innocently looks back at him. Dean hopes the angel wasn't reading his mind throughout the entire experience.

Castiel's eyes fleet away almost instantly when the car's engine ignites and sends a low rumble through the lot. Dean, snapped back to reality, ushers the angel into the car and hastily follows in after him. This time, Dean took great care in his steps and cleared the ledge much easier than he did earlier. Only Sam and Jess fastened their seatbelts.

Dean barely ever wore a seatbelt, and when he did, it was only the lap belt. 67' chevy's only had the lap belt built into them, and even though Dean had every skill available to add shoulder belts, he kept putting it off. Sure, he was in the car most of his life and a crash could end fatally, but the older brother thinks he's a careful-ish driver. He doesn't think he should worry about it. Sam used to be the same way until he met Jessica. It's crazy to think love makes a person a safety-nut, but when someone has something to lose, they seem to take extra precautions.

Stretching slowly as he adjusts to his new surroundings, Castiel yawns and prepares for the ride ahead of them. As an angel, ground vehicles prove to be confining and slow. It's apparent the angel misses heaven's perks, but ever since angels began to die, his powers began to die with them. Driving around must be boring for a celestial being.

"Cass, what are you looking forward to on this trip?" Dean offers a conversation to break the silence. Both hunter and angel turn to each other simultaneously like they're connected by some kind of profound bond.

"I think I want to swim. It sounds like a fairly entertaining activity and I'm fond to try it." He responds and his mouth curves into a small smile. As Sam drives out of the parking garage, the sunlight hits his eyes just right, and for a minute or so, a golden sheen complimented the deep blue of his irises. The warm glow hits Dean like a truck and a smile finds its way onto his lips. "How about you, Dean?"

"Bikinis." Dean's innocent smile curves into a lustful smirk as the single word hits the passengers of the car. Sam and Jess groan at the same time, knowing exactly what he means. Castiel, who had just begun to understand his language, rolls his eyes.

"There's more to life than just women in small amounts of clothing." Castiel facepalms himself and drags his hand through his dark brown hair. A hint of amusement flashes through his brilliant blue eyes. "Unless you meant that _you_ like wearing the bikinis. My apologies."

Although the hunter's face erupts pink, he bursts into laughter and pretends that he's never tried on panties or bikini bottoms before. He laughs like he doesn't like the feeling of them over his hips and snugly against his nether regions. He grins and pretends it is just a joke. With the fake, yet convincing visage realized, the rest of the passengers laugh along with him.

"Oh yeah, Cass, I obviously meant that." Dean snorts, catching Castiel's contagious smile once more. The giggling eases down after a while until Dean and Cass were smiling like idiots. Dean looks away as silence drops back in, leaving the older Winchester with his thoughts.

The first thing that came to his mind was always the first thing to come to his mind when he started thinking. Dean sighs softly as the question lingers with him:

_Am I straight?_

Immediately, he answered himself. '_Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?'_ But he knows why there would be doubt deep down in his gut.

The question began appearing when he found himself drinking to the brim of wasted and allowing a man to flirt with him. To his surprise, he found himself flirting back: something he would never do sober. Because of this, he dubbed this as an effect of the alcohol. However, he then blurted out that he wanted to sleep with said man and found himself at ease with his decision. Again, alcohol was impairing his judgment. He knew when he was mouth to mouth with the masculine stranger that this was probably not something he should be doing. _"I just confused him with a woman,"_ Dean told himself in the morning. He was trashed, of course he was confused. But he came out of that bar in the morning, hungover and distraught with pain in his thighs and ass. He told Sammy "mistakes were made" because it had to be in the heat of the moment when he decided to take it up the ass. It wasn't something he typically does, so he dubs it as a fluke of judgment. He wasn't wasted when a beady-eyed jew told him he was attractive, however. Dean completely froze up, and to his own surprise, he was _flustered_ to think that a man found him attractive. No matter his sobriety, he still suppresses his fluster and mistakes it for surprise. Even if outsiders yelled that these qualities make him gay, he would turn his cheek and ignore them. He can't be anything but straight, because being gay would make him less of a man. His father would be disappointed if that happened. John Winchester had high expectations for Dean and being anything but heterosexual would mean that he failed at achieving these standards.

"Dean? Does pizza sound good to you too?" Sam's voice broke him out of his contemplation at lightning speed and the older brother had to do a doubletake to register what Sam just said.

"huh—? Yeah, pizza sounds good." Dean clears his throat and replies. He is not gay.

Minutes pass and the conversation evolves into monster trivia to test their knowledge on unique and common creatures alike. Dean, who has been a hunter his entire life, passed each question with flying colors. In school, he didn't focus on his studies as much as he focused on hunting. He'd spend many sleepless nights researching monsters for his father when he was out on hunts and Sammy was asleep. Dean had to grow up early, but he thinks it paid off.

Sam, who was a nerd, made fucking flashcards conspired from Bobby's old books. Right now, they were arguing over how to kill an Okami.

"The book said it was killed by a wood chipper!" Sam protests as he swerves in and out of traffic. He glances over at the cards in Jessica's hands to confirm that he was right.

"I know that, but the _proper_ way is to stab them seven times with a bamboo dagger blessed by a priest or whatever." Dean retorts. "You got that from Bobby's journal, didn't you?"

"Well yeah!" Sammy twists his head to flick his long brown hair from his eyes. Sam isn't used to only being half-right.

"I believe the priest you are thinking of is Shinto. They partake in Japan where these creatures originated, correct?" Castiel cuts in with his religious knowledge and helping Dean's case. The older hunter nods and grins in response.

"Okay, _maybe_ that is the proper way. But, get this! According to Bobby, wood chippers pretty much trump everything." Sam states matter-of-factly, flaunting his research with pride. Dean rolls his eyes and snorts. Usually, this would be the time when he playfully tells Sammy that this was no way to get laid— but ironically, research _had_ got him laid. If it wasn't for Stanford, he and Jess wouldn't have met.

Soon, the noisy group bickered their way to the nearest pizza place. Even from the outside, it smelled of freshly cooked pizza that stimulated their taste buds. According to Jess, this place was considered the best pizza joint in town. In the website article she was reading, it stated they baked their pies from scratch and used Italian-style stone ovens. Apparently, stone oven pizza is better than microwaved pizza. As quickly as they pulled in, they scrambled out of the car and into the small restaurant. Castiel lagged behind simply because he didn't need to eat, and the smell didn't appetize him.

Inside, the brick building showed Italian colors. Renaissance paintings plastered the walls with brilliantly hued landscapes and meticulously placed brush strokes. Other relics decorated the space around them and exposed its Italian heritage. Unlit ceiling lights hung around the small space, promising a beautiful evening when the sun sunk below the horizon. It's a pity they arrived in the midday instead of the evening, missing the rustic charm of those lights. However, many other things proved eye-catching as well. The chairs were made of finely carved wood with intricate designs handled fondly by their creators. The tables were much the same, except only the outside border was embroidered with curvature. The bell above their heads chirped a greeting and added to the ambiance in the tiny restaurant. The party sat down in the seats nearest to the window because Castiel had spotted a patch of flowers and he wanted to watch the honeybees work while they ate.

Dean sat next to Castiel, who chose the window seat closest to the patch of flowers he was eyeing as they walked in. The angel's shoulders are haunched under his white shirt as he rested his head on his hands and gazed at a fat bumble resting on a blue petal of a hydrangea. Frankly, Castiel has been known to sit in a flower patch for hours upon hours just watching nature's wonders. Overall, Cass was most fond of honeybees. Dean doesn't have a clue why, but the angel loves the little suckers. Even if his back is turned to Dean, he can tell that his guardian angel's face is lit up in a smile as another fat bee joins the other on the flower.

Across from the two, Jess and Sam settle down in their seats and under the table, Dean already knows they're holding hands. His brother and his fiancee are that one couple who don't bother to hide their affections. Between the hand-holding, the cheek kisses, and fond little whispers and stares they share, that much is apparent. Dean doesn't know what it's like to be in love, so he doesn't understand their infatuation with each other. The closest thing he's had to a relationship was with a woman he went back to out of obligation, not out of love. This is why Dean rolls his eyes when they reach over and kiss: "Get a room, you two."

Sam retracts from the kiss with a warm smile on his lips and a smug look in his eyes. He motions his head towards Cass and responds: "You first."

"Oh shut up." Dean scoffs, hiding any hint of blush he could've had with another remark. "Cass and I aren't the ones making out every five seconds."

Thankfully for Dean, the waiter came over just as Sammy opened his mouth to retort his statement. Dean has no clue what his brother planned to say, but he could tell it wasn't something he wanted to be shared by the way his brother's face curved into a sly smirk.

"What can I get for you today?" A masculine voice turns their head to the handsome waiter in an apron. His voice hinted that he used to have a full Italian accent, but he grew accustomed to America over the years. He was a short yet well-built man with fair skin and black hair combed back out of his face.

"Beers all around." Sammy grins and Dean rolls his eyes like a child who lost 'dibs'. The young Winchester knows his brother hates it when he takes charge, but he does anyways, no matter how annoying Dean finds it. On top of being a health nut (minus the beers), Sammy can be a bit of a control freak sometimes. The only time he reveals this side of him however when they need to order things quickly or he just wants to get on Dean's nerves. It's not like Dean can retaliate though, Sam usually guesses his preferences on the first try. That's the part Dean finds the most annoying.

"Actually, I think I will just have Dihydrogen Monoxide from the tap." Castiel cuts in with a small smile. He must've turned away from they honeybees when the Italian came over.

Puzzled, the waiter slowly writes down the chemical requested and it is apparent he thinks this is a joke. Dean, who didn't pay attention in chemistry, was utterly dumbfounded. Luckily for the two of them, Sam was a nerd.

"Water, he means." Sammy cracks a small grin and the waiter nods with amusement. Dean, who thought Castiel actually wanted to drink a dangerous chemical, felt idiotic. The sasquatch then turned his head toward the small angel and tilted his head. "Dude, what was that about?"

"I didn't realize that we don't use the proper names of beverages in restaurants this nice. I was trying to be polite." Castiel looked a little flustered with his mistake, which tinted his cheeks a rosy hue and settled his brows creasing on his forehead. Any rational human being would find his pouting adorable. Dean is not gay.

"This isn't a pissing contest, guys, you're both dorks." Jessica chimes in with a shit-eating grin on her face. Dean looks over to watch his brother turn his gaze to the beautiful blonde and flash her a playful smile. Contagiously, Dean can't help but smile too. He doesn't know how or even when Sam met this girl, but so far she's proven to be a perfect candidate to become a Winchester. Not only was she smoking hot, but she understood both Sammy's nerd jokes and Dean's crude humor. There's no better woman for his brother, she's just perfect for him.

"Is that a thing humans typically do? A urination competition?" The puzzled angel tilts his head so innocently that the older Winchester can't help but burst out laughing. With certain topics, Castiel proves to have extensive knowledge whilst in others, he can be as dumb as a child: which never gets old. Suddenly offended by the reaction, the clipped angel huffs and narrows his eyes. "Dean, I'm serious here. Do they or do they not urinate for sport?"

"God Cass, no!" Dean manages to say through labored breaths as he fights to suppress his laughter. Across the table, even the happy couple are hiding their faces to stop themselves from snickering. "It's a figure of speech."

Still offended, Castiel sits up straight and turns his chiseled head back toward the window. Dean couldn't see his face, but he could swear that he's pouting. Sam, who had cleared his throat to regain his composure, turns to Dean: "I think you hurt his feelings."

The older brother merely rolls his eyes and says: "Bite me."

Sam smirks. "That's Cass' job."

As Dean's whole face flushed red and his eyes widened, the waiter came back and delivered the three beers and water. Dean opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it again when he realizes he has no proper retaliation. That, and the waiter was there and asking for their orders.

"I'll take a personal pizza with onions and peppers." Sammy tells the nice man who had the patience to deal with them today. Jessica states that she'll share Sam's pizza.

"One large pepperoni, my good man." Dean grins and gestures towards Cass. "We're sharing too."

Once the waiter left, Sam raises a brow at his brother. "Sharing a pizza, huh?"

"You and I both know Cass doesn't eat." Dean retaliates with over-gesticulation. "Besides, I want leftovers to take back to the room."

Dean is a slut for food: both brothers knew it, but neither of them said it aloud. While Sam typically ordered a salad, his brother would happily order pretty much everything from the menu and eat most of it. Today was no exception.

Meanwhile, Castiel doesn't pay any attention to any of the bickering nor of Dean defending his fragile masculinity as the brothers erupt into a second argument. All his blue eyes are focused on is the gentle bobbing of a fat bee as he lands on a white petal and pollinates. It's simple work, but the dance is mesmerizing. It reminds the fallen angel of his previous job in heaven, whereas his only worry was to watch over humanity and grant a few simple miracles. He misses the simplicity, and he feels like an idiot for messing up such an elementary task. He doesn't regret falling, however. It was painful and torturous, but it had opened his eyes. _Dean_ had opened his eyes for him. He's an angel who has the heart of a human, and he wonders what a honeybee would be like if he was allowed to roam free and make his own destiny. Cass would be that honeybee.

When the angel turned around again, not much had changed. The brothers were still mid-argument, but their hands were greasy with pizza and they spat cheese over each other when they spoke with their mouths full.

"Sammy, for the last time, that _did not happen_." Dean growled before he finished off his fourth slice, being anything but full. Sam, diagonal to his shorter brother, took a swig of beer and cleared his throat.

"I swear it! Dean, you seriously don't remember?" Sam laughs as his brother's face shifts darker and darker in hue. The problem wasn't that Dean forgot, but that he denies every moment of it.

"I didn't fucking check out that guy's ass, Sammy." Hastily, the hunter replies before taking yet another bite of his pizza. If Jess hasn't noticed by now, it's safe to say that Dean has zero table manners. "There was a goddamn hot chick with a fine ass next to him!"

"_That was a dude."_ Sam facepalms himself, but he can't help a small chuckle as the realization hits Dean like a truck. One time, when the boys were coming out of a Wiccan shop, a man walked by with the ass of Captain America. Dean, out of habit, couldn't help but to admire the bubble butt. Woman or not, it was a fine ass. Castiel, who has no idea what is going on, sits quietly next to Dean, bemused yet interested to see how the story would pan out.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that!" Dean gesticulates defensively as he shoves the last of his fifth slice into his mouth. The rest of his sentence comes out in an angry muffle that no one can make out.

"I don't judge." Jessica raises her hands in surrender, her blunt face masking her amusement and angering Dean further. This triggers the biggest eye-roll ever recorded and Dean wipes his mouth of the grease. Before Dean can deny the truth any longer, the waiter comes back with the bill. "Thanks."

"I'm going to the john." Dean says, deadpanned, and he doesn't even wait for a response before he gets up and saunters his way to the restroom.

Closing the door behind him, Dean drapes his body over the sink and lets out the air he trapped in his lungs. He always had trouble with anger issues, but typically when it comes to his family, he plays it off like he's joking. He usually was, up until today at least. He doesn't find it comforting that Sammy thinks he is anything but straight, because Sammy was there for the lectures his dad gave him. Maybe this is why he takes charge so often now, because he thinks Dean isn't 'man' enough to handle the two of them anymore. Dean remembers when he first began to question his sexuality, and it wasn't a fond memory.

_"Uh Sir," A teenager tugs on his father's sleeve, the familiar stink of beer wafting toward him as he turns around to face his son. "What?" John didn't look too amused, and the freckled child realized this right away. Instinctively, he struck into attention and cleared his throat. "Da- I mean sir, uh, is it normal to think a guy looks cute?" He asked timidly, and as John's face morphed from sullen to angry, Dean raised his hands defensively. "I-I'm not asking for me, of course. I'm asking for a friend." He added hastily while his deadbeat father blinked at him. "Go be friends with someone else." He replied slowly, dragging the 's' of each word drunkenly. "I don't want a guy like you to be infected by a parasite like him." Dean's eyes widened and he understood immediately. If he ever told his dad of his slight attraction to the same sex, he'd surely disown him, no matter how small the attraction might be. Instead of living up to be the perfect hunter, John would leave Dean to the wolves if he knew. John Winchester expects his son to be strong and great, and apparently, gayness is a sign of weakness. Dean vowed from that day on that he would remain unconscious to these subtle attractions. They were minor all throughout his life, and he could be heterosexual in peace until the angel showed up and saved his life. Like a switch, he somehow began to revisit these subtle attractions and not even a strip club could coax him back into the closet. Now, he's back to denial._

Dean's focus comes back to him when a knock echoes through the room. Thinking it's Cass, Dean grunts softly and opens the door. It's Sam.

Not wanting to deal with any more gay jokes, the older hunter exhales and intends to close the door. However, Sammy uses his body weight, which is considerably more than Dean's due to his height, to stop him.

"Whaddya want?" Dean asks, completely unamused as his brother sighs and takes on a serious tone. Nervously, Sammy's right hand twitches as he fiddles with his left.

"I just need to say something." He exhales, leaning his weight on the doorframe. Dean sighs softly and runs a hand through his hair. "Okay, I don't know if you're actually queer or not, but hear me out."

"Sammy, you know I'm-" Dean starts but Sam shushes him with a wave of his hand.

"Just, hear me out." His brother's voice was surprisingly gentle, and it scared him.

"Fine, fine." Dean rolls his eyes like a disobedient teenager while Sam exhales and gathers his thoughts. They make eye contact as Dean leans against the sink. Although the older hunter's visage was laid-back and calm, he's screaming on the inside. He doesn't want to have this conversation: not now, not ever. But Sam opened his mouth and said the words Dean thought he'd never hear him say.

"Queer or not, you're still my brother." Sam started, rendering Dean off guard. "Now, I know dad had... opinions on men liking other men, to say the least, and I'm not saying you are, or you have to decide what you are. I just needed to say that I don't share dad's opinions."

He stays silent.

"I mean, come on, man, I'd support you even if you told me you were a freaking chicken. Which is weird, by the way, but that's not the point." Sam clears his throat again before continuing. "The point is that I wouldn't think of you as less of a man if you were gay or bi or whatever. You're still my brother, unfortunately for me, and you'll continue to be a dumbass, a great hunter, and a food machine. Just so you know."

Dean is still speechless at the sink, processing what his brother had just told him. Never in a million years would he think Sam could ever accept him as anything more than straight. Never.

As Sam turned to leave, he paused and looked back with a small smile. "I won't stop teasing you for making love-eyes at Cass though."

This triggered a playful grin on Dean's face, and he felt better already. He walked into this restaurant thinking his brother saw him as weak, but he'll leave knowing he still sees him as a strong older brother still. The feeling of relief set aside, the older hunter was suddenly conscious of how much he stared at Castiel and he wonders if this is why Sam teases him so much. Probably, but that didn't stop Dean from staying: "Shut up."

When Sam left to talk to Jessica again, Dean turned back to the sink to stare at himself in the eyes. It felt good knowing his brother was a supporter of the LGBTQ community, but was _he? _The conflicted hunter still thinks these feelings are wrong and that he should suppress them, no matter how much support he'd get. This whole thing was just an utter mess in his mind, and finally, he decides to quit contemplating and focus on the vacation ahead of them. He still likes girls, _a lot_, so there's something to look forward to.

He walks back to the group of friends who were trying to coax Castiel into leaving the honeybees. They made little progress, however, until Dean came over and patted his best friend on the back. Snapped out of his trance, the angel turns around and frowns from being pulled from his favorite activity.

"Come on, buddy. There's gonna be more bees at the hotel." The hunter promises his friend, who nods reluctantly.

"There better be." Cass deadpans, narrowing his eyes while a small smile plays with the corner of his mouth. Dean chuckles a little knowing damn well that he only had guessed.

On the table, their half-finished pizzas were neatly folded into white boxes with the restaurant's logo printed in red ink on the top cover. Even though Dean felt like he had left for 5 minutes, Jess still had managed to stack the plates neatly in the center of the table, stack the boxes, and pay the bill. Again, the older brother couldn't believe his Sammy had found such a perfect woman.

However, just as they were about to leave, the waiter approaches them with spoons on a platter. Inside the spoons is an icecream-like substance the waiter called Gelato. Apparently, it's a creamier icecream alternative that contains more milk than it does cream, which is easier on the stomach. There were free samples, so the group decided to stay a few extra minutes. Dean, who was always eager to try new food, eased the spoon into his mouth at once. He was blown away.

Absently, Castiel watched his friends' faces morph upon tasting the gelato, and he begins to miss being human. Yes, he easily got sick of passing bowels and urination, but it was worth the taste of food. If he were to try the creamy substance right now, it would taste of molecules. Nevertheless, even though he couldn't taste the substance, his angelic heart warmed upon seeing how happy food made humans feel. He could sense their genuine happiness resonating off them like auras, and he concludes it felt better than feeling their negativity radiating off them. It was refreshingly satisfying to finally see the Winchesters happy and not expecting to die. Of course, Sam or Dean would find some kind of monster to hunt while they were here, but it wouldn't be a leviathan or God's sister. Perhaps a skinwalker, or a simple haunting.

As quickly as the gelato came, it went, and Dean was smiling like an idiot. He's never tasted anything so good before, and so far this trip had been a food adventure. Of course, he felt bad that they didn't have money and that they were credit card frauds, but only because this place was genuinely amazing. To compensate, he decided to leave a $5 as a tip, courtesy of hustling pool.

"Shit, man, that was some good gelato." Dean huffs contently as he disposes his spoon and picks up their pizzas. He decided to carry the boxes so the happy couple could hold hands without having to worry about balancing the pizzas with one hand. Anything to help his younger brother be happy.

"Well yeah," Sammy replies, turning his head toward his older brother whilst he holds the door for his fiancee. He smiles subtly as their eyes meet and they're reminded of the conversation they had only minutes before. Dean can't help but roll his eyes, knowing that under that encouraging smile was a smirk. Through the years of hunting and road-tripping together, both brothers have seen sides of each other they didn't know they had. This, in turn, helped them understand each other and grow closer as brothers. It also allowed both siblings to read the other's face like a book.

Castiel brings up the rear on the Winchester train, and he can't help but look wistfully at the honeybee still resting on the flower without a care in the world. He pauses briefly, letting the cool, yet humid air ruffle his exposed undershirt. His navy blue tie, still not straight, whipped him in the face and broke his sudden trance almost immediately. Dean was looking back at the angel as his blue eyes shifted back to the group. Like always, the very moment their eyes locked, the air around them tensed and something shifted in the lonely hunter's visage. Dean's emerald eyes turned away sequentially.

The older Winchester turned around after their eyes parted and like always, he denies that sudden rush he had felt in that split second. Because of the talk he had with Sam, he is hyperaware of the way they've been staring at each other. The evidence is stacked higher than the pizza boxes that Dean piles into the back seat of the rental car, and he exhales. They're friends: and that's all they'll ever be.

That's what Dean tells himself, anyway. His soul sings a different song.

xxx


End file.
